


Drunk in Lust

by sachie



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: ? - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dirty Talk, Drunk Sex, M/M, Sexual Content, USUK - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 20:52:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1563647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sachie/pseuds/sachie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur isn't quite sure how he and Alfred ended up in this particular, unforeseen and quite lewd situation. Whether it be Francis' fault, or the alcohol's, or Alfred himself, neither of them really did care nor mind. At all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drunk in Lust

Arthur had absolutely no idea how they'd ended up in such a compromising position.

So maybe a bit of alcohol and such had been added into their system. Or _maybe_ there was quite a bit of the influence of innuendos (certainly unwanted, mind you) coming from France whenever he'd pass by them during the party—in the middle of their usual banters and merciless teasing, which, of course, always never came without that heavy unresolved sexual tension (which is why Francis started heavily implying a bit too blunt of _sexual_ things in the first place).

But, of course, that didn't matter right now, seeing as Arthur was being bent over a desk with his flushed cheeks pressing against the cold surface of the shade of brown, some clothes discarded at the most bizarre places while Arthur's neat pair of trousers started slipping off the curve of his knees to pool around his ankles, the lower part of Alfred's body pressing against his own.

Including the groin and the bulge of the American's underwear, of course. And Arthur ought to relax and enjoy the way it had hitched up like a wedgie, pressed smack in between his ass cheeks and grinding against him.

Arthur felt the muscles of his behind twitch as he made to moan onto the surface of the table, pushing his hips back against Alfred's. He hadn't realized how close the other was to him until he heard hitched breathing and felt the ghost of a warm breath right behind the shell of his ear.

"Did ya like that, baby?" Alfred breathed, pressing a soft kiss on the back of his neck. He held Arthur's hips firmly with one hand as he rolled his hips, using the other to cup the soft yet firm flesh of his ass in his hands. He figured he could do rougher things to it later on, when things start to get more involved. "God, you're hot. If I had my way with you, I'd make you scream all night so much so you wouldn't be able to talk the next day."

"Shut up," Arthur mumbled, yet his voice was hoarse as his throat went dry at Alfred's words.. he wasn't the biggest fan of dirty talking as it sounded odd coming from the characters of his porn magazines, but. With the actual words coming out of Alfred's mouth, rolling off along with his drunkenly deep, sultry voice (oh, since when had that obnoxious facade of a stupid voice fade away?), whispered right along with Alfred's warm breath and past the back of Arthur's neck…

So maybe Arthur wasn't drunk enough to not get hard.

Alfred seemed to be satisfied with Arthur's response as he chuckled to himself before hoisting Arthur over onto his back, admiring the glint in his eyes and the ruffle of his hair and the flush on his cheeks and basically the vulnerable position he'd curbed this stuffy, uptight Brit to. He ran his hands down his hips and softly, teasingly along the insides of Arthur's thighs (earning a throaty sound, that measured so closely to a mewl) and ever so lightly cupped around the forming bulge, causing the Brit to involuntarily buck up into his hand.

"Ah, ah, ah," Bright blue eyes brightened in mischief and Arthur glared at him and groaned in frustration. Alfred smirked, "I caused this, hah? What is it you like, Artie? Is it the grinding? Dirty talking?"

"You dirty talking certainly means you'll never be able to control your flapping mouth for the rest of this.. this _thing_ ," The Brit replied and wrapped his legs around Alfred's torso, digging the heels of his foot against the other's back so he could pull him closer.

The American's lips curled up in response as he let himself be tugged closer, placing both of his hands at either side of Arthur's shoulders. He leaned down to press kisses against Arthur's neck, and further down his torso where his dress shirt had already been unbuttoned. "But you love it; you love how I plan how good I'm going to make you feel. You love how much confidence I have when I tell you I'm going to make you scream. You'd probably like it if I told you that I'd fuck you so hard that you might not be able to walk much less stand by tomorrow."

Arthur groaned and bucked his hips against Alfred. Alfred simply stood there, occupied with suckling on Arthur's skin and unbuttoning one of the two remaining piece of clothing clinging onto Arthur's skin as the Brit tried his best rolling his lips against Alfred's, rewarded with small groans on particularly hard grinds. "You talk too much."

"It's turning you on, sweetheart, isn't it? You're getting all hot and bothered and flustered over this," Alfred muttered, running a tongue above Arthur's nipple, earning a shudder and a sound of protest from the other. "I wonder about the things I could do to you, y'know? You're right here, lying for me on a hard table with your legs spread apart and it's turning me on and—fuck, so much things I could do to you, Artie."

The Brit breathed out a moan and impatiently ran his hands down the toned chest in front of him, dipping his hands into the batman boxers the other was currently wearing and squeezed his arse demandingly. Alfred bit him on the stomach and started kneading the bulge of his underwear. He yelped in surprise and arched his back, wanting more.

"Oh, fuck me."

An appreciating sound rumbled from Alfred's throat in response to Arthur's demands. "I'll get to that, cupcake. Right now we'll concentrate on foreplay slash getting you riled up enough that you won't fall asleep in the middle of sex as dead drunk as your perfect ass are."

"Fuck foreplay," Arthur bucked his hips once more against Alfred's hands as the American finished tugging on his boxers and pulling out his hard enough cock.

Tracing a hand against the slit of the head, Alfred kept his bright blue eyes focused on the way Arthur's legs trembled at the sensation. He smiled and pressed another kiss against the Brit's jaw, nipping down the skin of his neck and leaving telltale signs of hickeys against the pale complexion.

The sharp tips of Arthur's nails had driven themselves against the flesh of Alfred's toned butt, leaving crescent-moon shaped marks, as the Brit kept firm with his demands. Arthur moaned as Alfred started fondling with his balls, and in return halted one of his hands from playing with the flesh of the blue-eyed lad's backside in exchange for tracing the vein under Alfred's dick.

"Fuck, Arthur…" Alfred breathed out as Arthur moved on with animating his hands in an excruciatingly slow pace, whose bright olive eyes held mischief as it trained on the taller's faltering grip on his manhood and the telling flush of his cheeks. "I— _shit_ —I could only just imagine how good you'd be with your mouth, babe. I could imagine you on your knees, or heck, anywhere you want. But that would never change the fact that you'd be _my_ whore, and I'd be the one gripping your locks or the back of your head as I fuck your mouth—"

Groaning, Arthur sent a glare to Alfred and arched his back by a fraction of an inch, before demanding, "Why can't you fuck me right now, then?"

Alfred's lips curled into a weirdly aroused smile and he paused pumping Arthur. Instead he pulled Arthur's boxers off his mid-shin to join the pooled trousers on the floor, and started rubbing the skin in between Arthur's balls and entrance. "Eager and demanding, ain't we? I'll do you eventually, Artie—hard and rough against the mattress or if you.. what do you call that? _Fancy_ vanilla sex, I'm up for that. As long as _I_ am the one turning _you_ into a useless writhing mess on the bed—"

"If you keep on talking to me like that I'll be forced to push _you_ against this fucking desk and make sure my asshole is stuffed by nothing but you," hissed the Briton, and pushed against the taller's finger, forcing the tip inside him.

"Wouldn't mind," Alfred muttered, burying his face again into Arthur's chest and rubbing his tongue flat against a hard erect nipple. A shuddering involuntarily gasp made it's way past Arthur's control, and he used one hand to run and tangle through the strawberry blond locks presented right in front of him. "Stop playing with those. I'm not a girl."

Alfred ignored him and bit and sucked on the hardening bud while finger-fucking Arthur, curling his fingers around Arthur's insides and rubbing against his walls until he found a tender spot which made Arthur's hips buck up and another yell rip though the Brit's lungs. Thin lips curled up into a small smile as he continued caressing the same spot, then later completely and purposely avoiding it. Arthur's expression by then was a mixture of downright annoyance and most definitely - arousal.

Semen had started forming at the tip of Arthur's cock albeit having been ignored in the past five minutes. Alfred licked his bottom lip at the sight. His hand subconsciously and gently pried the other's fingers off his hair, since his scalp was getting sore from all the hair pulling he'd received from Arthur.

"Do you want me to fuck you with my big cock?" He finally whispered.

Arthur shuddered more from his distinguishably warm breath grazing across his skin in such a chilly room, made a little noise, and croaked: "Don't get too smug about your penis size, boy."

Alfred laughed deep in his throat, kissing the underside of Arthur's jaw, then down his neck, then on his lips. He pulled away slightly, gave a "Then you don't deserve to be fucked by my _big cock_ , old man," and pressed his lips on Arthur's just enough to feel the reverberating whine against his lips. Then he swirled his finger inside just for more effect. Arthur shortly bucked up against him. Then he pulled his fingers out in exchange for simulating his own throbbing member.

"So?"

"Fine, fine, come on." He groaned.

Alfred licked his necked, sucked, bit. "Come on what?"

" _Do it_ , you frustrating wanker."

By now he'd been dragging the head of his cock up and down along the part of Arthur's ass cheeks, settling himself comfortably into the beautifully spread pale legs, feeling that poke of the other's erection against his abdomen. "Do what?"

Arthur moaned animalistically and bucked against Alfred, effectively burying the head and pushing it roughly through the ring of muscles in his ass. "Fuck me!"

"With what?"

"Fuck you, you sodding prick!" Arthur cried and pressed on for more, but Alfred stood his ground and refused to enter the Brit fully, instead curling his lips into quite the victorious smile. The tips of Arthur's ears—then his cheeks—turned into a deep shade of red, and Alfred thought it was attractive whether it was from embarrassment or anger.

"Full sentence, honey." He whispered, this time with a less drunken slur.

Arthur stubbornly refused to say anything for a few seconds before Alfred moved a bit – pushing in in an agonizingly slow rate before pulling out almost completely, and Arthur gave a cry of rage. "F-Fuck.. _oh_.. fuck me with your b-big cock, you—!"

And then Alfred rewarded him, sheathing himself fully, forcefully inside Arthur's tight hole with such a force that the table gave a loud creak of protest simultaneous to Arthur's loud shout, and then before Arthur could say anything, partially pulled out and slammed right back inside.

He continued the actions over and over again, moaning and grunting to fill in the silent moments when Arthur would end up panting himself to breathlessness. At one point Arthur had arched his back and squeezed his walls tightly against Alfred's cock (which almost made him come right there and then, that sly little English vixen) that resulted to Alfred punishing him: or say flipping him into his stomach and alternating with fucking him _hard_ and slapping that nice little ass of his until the skin was blotched red and running his nails along the skin resulting into angry red lines. Which didn't feel like a punishment to Alfred, at all, since Arthur was making the most (discrete) pleased sounds and moving his body in a way that could only mean asking for more.

Soon he was back ramming into the Brit uninterruptedly, changing angles in search for his prostate to simulate. It was only when Alfred commanded him back onto his back, lifted up his leg high up and placed it on his shoulder, and thrust deep inside was when Arthur froze into a wordless scream, throwing his head back against the rough and cold surface of the desk. Nails were dragged along the top of the furniture but Alfred ignored the sound and the building heat in his abdomen and instead thrust against that tender spot inside of him, once, twice, repeatedly.

Arthur had given up trying to find stability by holding onto the table and instead opted for Alfred's arms and then soon onto his broad back, feeling as if he'd end up making the American bleed with his nails but decided not to worry because said American would most likely have him end up bleeding by his butt—with the force of his thrusts and his size and his speed and all. Not that he was complaining, though. Especially not with the way his thrusts had a new found accuracy in hitting spot on his prostate.

"Did you like that, baby?" Alfred grunted, and Arthur tried to mumble 'oh no' but was forced backwards by Alfred's hips and ended up mindlessly breathing out _yes_. "Liked that.. huh? D-do you know what it feels like from my side?"

"Feels so fucking—fucking _good_. The way you squeeze around me like you wanna squeeze it dry, your face whenever I hit your little spot deep inside, the way you arch your back and bare your neck and show me all the evidence that – _oh_ – that you're mine, tonight. Love the way that you shudder, tiny and, and nnhh, violent and it makes it so fuckin' good watching you like this cause, _fuck_ , I'm the one who – who makes you feel like this and—"

Arthur, panting and writhing, had started reaching for his cock but Alfred beat him to it, pumping along with the pace of his hips. No foreplay or anything; he just took the neglected cock into his hands and pumped hard as he slammed into Arthur and his prostate, and soon Arthur was struggling to warn the other that he was coming.

Just as soon as beads of come started surfacing from his head, Alfred placed his hands away and Arthur almost shouted at him, reaching for his cock himself. But the American took his wrists within one hand and placed his hands above his head, exposing his everything.

"L-let me come.." Arthur managed to grunt, trembling as Alfred's movements became more frantic and his breathe became more shallow. He cried out as Alfred continued his earlier movements, bucked his hips and yelled out a single syllable supposed to warn the other that he was coming, and came.

Alfred thrust a few more times before stilling and shooting his load deep into the Englishman, croaking out his name and catching a glimpse of his flushed face before burying his face into Arthur's neck. Arthur made a pleased sound and ran his fingers through Alfred's hair, who simply laid on top of Arthur and waited for both their heartbeats to calm down.

Within a few minutes their breaths have evened out and Arthur indulged himself deep into semi-drunken post-sex unconsciousness, while Alfred pulled on his own underwear and carried Arthur over his shoulder. Arthur jolted in his sleep and let out a pained grunt and the younger one patted his bare ass in apology, before carrying him through the suite's hallway and tossing him onto the proper bed. Wanting to clean up the trail of semen dripping down Arthur's thighs but deciding he was too tired to do so (and Alfred's jizz looked good on Arthur anyway, so why no keep it in there longer?) Alfred tucked himself into bed right beside Arthur and pulled him into his chest like he would with a stuffed toy, wrapping his legs and arms protectively over his body and smiling when he felt Arthur's lips press onto his collarbones.

He'll deal with the awkwardness in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> i know this was made kit kats kats, but still. what have i done.


End file.
